An Unlikely Trio
by Hazeloop
Summary: Sherlock returns from the dead reuniting with John and the life that he had left behind. A year passes by as Sherlock and John's relationship turns from 'flatmate' to 'couple' and one day Sherlock is faced with the most perplexing and challenging mystery in his entire life...children.
1. Prologue

Authors Note: I try to remain fairly canon with how the characters act, and the overall universe, but some aspects have been changed in terms of overall story and with relationships like Sherlock's parents. Thank you and enjoy!

Prologue:

**John** – **"_Two years…since that day. It had been two years since he left my life, and who would've thought that baker street would bring us back together again_."**

Sherlock stands before John in the pouring rain in front of 221B Baker St.. A plastic grocery bag hangs limply from John's hand as he stares up at the man in complete disbelief. Sherlock stares back with a somber look, which soon turns into a smug grin as he examines John's face closer.

**Sherlock** – "Really John, A mustache?"

**John** –** "_Those were the first words he said to me_."**

John drops his bag and umbrella punching him straight in the face. Sherlock stands not blocking, but does stagger a little as blood pours from his cut lip.

**John** –"All these years! And that's the first thing you say to me?!"

He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, his gaze averted as he breathes harshly trying to comprehend the situation.

**John** - "You're supposed to be dead you arrogant prick!"

**Sherlock** – "John, I—"

Sherlock reaches out to John, but is instead grabbed roughly by him and thrown against the door to 221B.

**John** – "You think you can just walk back into my life like this! Like I'd just gladly welcome you with open arms like nothing happened?!"

John closes his eyes and rests his head against Sherlock's chest.

**John** –" You arrogant son of a bitch….why didn't you trust me?!"

Both remain unusually quiet as the rain continues to pour down on them. Hesitantly, Sherlock rests a hand on John's head running his fingers through his hair. John slowly looks up at Sherlock, staring directly into his eyes.

**John** – **"…_however I could see his true words in his eyes_."**

**John** –** "_I'm so sorry… I missed you… Please forgive me…. I don't deserve you…_"**

** "_I love you…."_**

John then buries his face again in his chest, his grip tightening as he trembles fiercely.

**John** – "Why did you leave me?"

John sobs as Sherlock wraps his arms around him, burying his own head into John's hair doing little to hide his own tears.

**Sherlock** – "I'm sorry John…"

**John** – **"_A part of me wanted to forgive him right there, as angry as I was, just seeing his face brought _**

**_ back so many memories_."**

Later, John opens the door to 221B the smell of lingering chemicals and paper hit Sherlock like a ton of bricks, overwhelming the senses. What surprised him most though was how immaculate and dust free the flat appeared to be despite his two-year absence.

**Sherlock** – "You kept the flat all this time?"

He looked around in awe, everything preserved as it was the day Sherlock 'died'. John slowly walks in and puts his hands on the back of his chair, fingering the shawl that laid across it.

**John** – "Every now and then, I would come back to…clean and dust, pay Mrs. Hudson a visit. Heh, that's why I was here today actually, I always bring her favorite tin of biscuits."

John lifts his bag and looks up at Sherlock who is now staring outside the window.

**John** – "Most of the time though, I would just sit here and think…Reminisce."

**John** –** "_Those memories, would always flood my mind whenever I came back to this place. Every time I hoped that they would bring me comfort or peace, but it never did. It would just reopen the wound, remind me of how much I missed him_."**

Sherlock turns and stares a John who is now looking down nervously picking at the shawl. His other hand rubbing the wound on his shoulder.

**John** –" I-I know you probably think I'm an idiot for doing so, that I should've just moved on with my life like you wanted me to."

John tightly grips the back of the chair and looks up at Sherlock.

**John** – **"_That's why I kept coming back, because I was afraid that one day I wouldn't miss him_."**

**John** – "But I just couldn't…. I tried, but I couldn't just move on like that, to believe that everything was a lie! Not after everything we've…"

In a flash Sherlock strides over to him, gripping his arms firmly as his gaze locks onto John's.

**Sherlock** – "You were right, John. All that time…none of it was a lie."

John stares back fondly at first, but just as quickly his expression turns to anger.

**John** – "Then why didn't you trust me?! Let me in on your plan!"

A pained look crosses Sherlock's face, but he remains silent

**John** – "I would've followed you Sherlock! Even if I had to disappear off the face of the Earth, I would've done it for you…"

**Sherlock** – "I know."

John looks at him shocked.

**Sherlock** – "But it was not your battle to fight John. If Moriarty's men had any inkling that you knew of my plan they… you've escaped death so many times already. I didn't want you to go through that experience again."

**John** – **"_I could see the pain in his face as well, as if he were recalling the same memories as I. A mournful look, at the loss of time that we will never be able to regain_."**

Sherlock's grip moves from his arms to his hands. His thumbs fondly rubbing over his knuckles as John stares down at their joined hands.

**Sherlock** – "Please know this John, if you think that you could ever forgive me. Please know that having to leave you, was the most painful decision I ever had to make. But I had to, in order to save you."

John releases a shaky breath biting his lower lip, as he looks up at Sherlock

**John** – "Then why did you come back? You could've started a new life, a fresh start."

Sherlock ponders for a moment, his thumb continuing to brush John's knuckles

**Sherlock** – "I would be lost without my blogger."

**John** – **"_Though it would take a while for the wound to heal… to forget the pain, I understood why it was necessary for Sherlock to fake his own death; even if I may never be able to fully comprehend just how he did it. In the end, all I needed to really understand was why he had to come back_."**

A goofy-if-not-gleeful smile spreads along John's face as he chuckles warmly. Sherlock matches with a wide grin of his own.

**John** – "You really are an idiot."

John reaches up grabbing the back of Sherlock's head, pulling him down into a kiss.

**John** – **"_And that was enough for me_."**


	2. Chapter 1: The Blog

**Chapter 1: The Blog**

**John** – **"**_**It's been a year since Sherlock came back to me…"**_

John is sitting in what is now his and Sherlock's room, typing away a new entry for his blog on their bed. He pauses in mid-sentence as his mind lingers on those words and a small smile crosses his face.

Since they moved back into 221B John's old room has been converted into a Study for Sherlock when he needs to work alone or on his experiments. Finally, (much to John's joy), ridding most of the apartment of clutter and strange smells.

They've tried to keep their first year together as low-key as they could, catching up on lost time, healing old wounds, and just getting used to living together again. Honestly it took little-to-no-time though, and life simply fell into normalcy once more; well, at least as normal as their life could get.

So when Sherlock decided to take cases again, and John to resume the role of partner and blogger, the one question on John's mind now was what would be the ideal case to write about for Sherlock's 'big return'.

John sat there staring at the screen contemplating, nothing they've done so far was particularly interesting. However… there was one case that did come to mind. Not so much as a case, but an experience that did eventually collide with a case. Actually, now that John thought about it more, it was the perfect 'first' case to write about for the revival of the blog; and what better way than to start from the very beginning.

_**John – "…and slowly he came back to everyone else as well**_**."**

Then, as if his fingers were electrified, John hastily began to type.

**John- **_**"As the months went by, Sherlock reunited one by one with his old friends. Detective Lestrade, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson (and yes they are his friends despite how much he will deny it). Mrs. Hudson was the first due to accidentally walking into our flat the day of his return, and passing out as a result."**_

John suppresses a laugh as he thinks back to lifting Mrs. Hudson as Sherlock revived her with smelling salts only to have her scream in his face in horror, then just as quickly crying into his coat while weakly hitting his chest. She gave him nothing but grief for two straight weeks after that, but the ample supply of tea and biscuits she would bring up to them during that time seemed to have a reverse effect.

**John **_**–" Lestrade amazingly took it in good stride, giving Sherlock a strong hug and a smug, "I knew you weren't dead!", but the misty look in his eyes said otherwise. Molly was even calmer than the other two. She did cry a little, but she just smiled and gave Sherlock a hug welcoming him back. It was later that Sherlock conveyed to me that she was in on his plan. Though it didn't surprise me since Mycroft was too, it did sting a bit…"**_

John thought back to that day when Sherlock told him the details on how exactly he faked his death. He wanted to tell John straight away, (his sense of pride and need to show off still clearly healthy) but John didn't want to think back to that day, at least not for a while; and thankfully Sherlock understood and respected John's wishes. To be honest, John didn't really care how Sherlock did it, all he cared was that Sherlock was back and he was fine with just that. Yet Molly's subtle reaction to Sherlock miraculously coming back from the dead, irked in the back of John's mind wondering, "How did he do it?".

So one day, out of the blue… John just asked.

It was quite hilarious of a situation now that he thought about it. Sherlock was in the kitchen holding a tongue with forceps in one hand over a Bunsen burner while making detailed notes with the other. This had already annoyed John seeing as Sherlock had a perfectly good lab in his old room, but at John's prior protests Sherlock simply replied, "I want to be able to see you while I work." Well, John didn't have the heart to say no after that.

So as John sat in his chair reading the paper while Sherlock worked on his experiment, he suddenly lowered the paper, turned to Sherlock and asked, "How did you fake your death?" Sherlock, for once was taken completely off guard and dropped his tongue into the burner disintegrating the tongue and almost setting the table on fire.

What took place after that was over an hour of detailed explanations involving look-alike corpses, an airbed, dozens of actors, Mycroft's deception, a rubber ball…the list went on as Sherlock unfolded the whole plan to him. When he got to Molly's part however, that was when John's mood turned from enraptured to enraged.

He knew it was childish seeing as it was two years ago and Sherlock had a perfectly good reason for needing Molly's aid, but he just kept thinking about how she didn't have to mourn him, how she didn't wake up in the middle of the night sobbing from a nightmare, or have the psychosomatic pain in her leg come back now and then.

Why did she get to know that he was ok?

Again, old wounds are easily re-opened, and what took place after Sherlock's explanation was hours of fighting, tears, apologies, and forgiveness. Then some take away Thai food didn't hurt either. Despite how painful the conversation was though, it only served to strengthen their relationship.

**John** – **"**_**So life continues on here at 221B Baker St. Sherlock once again took on the role of consulting detective, and I his blogger. Sherlock was fairly unstoppable, solving case after case, and building back up the reputation of a brilliant mind that he deserved. That is until one day when Sherlock was confronted with a challenge that even he couldn't of been prepared for**_**."**


	3. Chapter 2: Three's a Crowd

**Chapter 2: Three's a Crowd**

It is just another normal day at 221B Baker St. It was an unusually sunny day in November, and there were no pressing cases, leaving Sherlock and John to enjoy a nice-lazy Sunday. Or so it would seem. For the great detective Sherlock Holmes however, it is far from a normal Sunday. His face grim and his brow furrowed, he crosses his arms sternly as he stares down at his newest enemy.

One to have the audacity to invade his home on such a pleasant day as today, and to not even give a damn about it! She just stares back at him with a vacant-uncaring expression, like she couldn't give two licks that she was graced by such a benevolent presence. But why would she care anyway? It's not like she could talk back, or walk away even.

Actually in this situation, Sherlock was in complete control. He smiled triumphantly to himself at first with this realization, but it's quickly washed away at the following thought that he had no idea what to do with her, and any ideas he did have were clearly not legal.

So, with much dismay and great annoyance, Sherlock continues on to stand in his kitchen glaring down at a baby sitting on his lab table in a basket.

**Sherlock** – "John?"

Sherlock continues to stare at the baby who stares back

**Sherlock** – "John?!"

Sherlock then cautiously pokes the baby who grabs his finger

**John** – "Yeah?"

John calls from the other room

**Sherlock** – "What's this?"

**John** – "What's what?"

Sherlock continues to prod the baby who begins to cry

**Sherlock** – "This….thing on my table."

John enters the room to find a look of disgust on Sherlock's face as the baby continues to cry even louder. Sherlock looks up at John turning the basket in his direction.

**Sherlock** – "And now it's making noise."

With a heavy and agitated sigh John puts his hands on his hips, glaring back at Sherlock.

**John** – "It's a baby Sherlock, surely you must know what those are?"

**Sherlock** – "Yes of course John, but what is it doing here in my flat and on my table?"

John goes over to pick up the baby out of the basket, shooing Sherlock away.

**John **– "What did you do to her?"

**Sherlock** – "I did nothing to it."

Sherlock responds defensively. He glares again as John gently holds the baby bouncing her a bit in his arms shooting back a glare at Sherlock

**John** – "She's not an 'it', her name is Emma and she's my niece."

**Sherlock** – "That still doesn't explain why she's on my table."

He crosses his arms, pouting slightly at John.

**John** – "My sister and her husband have to go out of town for a week for an emergency and asked me if I could watch her. And seeing that it's been pretty slow lately case-wise and that I have a week of holiday to use up I figured it shouldn't be a problem."

John gently rocks the baby in his arms calming her down, while Sherlock walks over to his chair disgruntled and looks through his microscope. He glances up and watches as John treads back and forth rocking the baby gently. He looks from the baby to John and see's the look of pure comforting bliss on his face.

**Sherlock** –"This is my first encounter with any of your family."

John stops rocking the baby and looks up at Sherlock with a sad smile.

**John** –"Probably won't be the last, but it won't become a habit I assure you."

Sherlock looks at John, cocking an eyebrow in question.

**Sherlock**-"And why is that?"

**John** –"My parents moved out to the country and don't intend to leave anytime soon, and…I don't really

get along with my sister, so we don't speak much. Well…not her so much as her husband."

**Sherlock** – "Ah, the consistent purveyor of the finest of gentleman clubs."

John looks at him with a bit of surprise.

**John** – "So you do listen in on my calls to my folks?"

**Sherlock** –"Only on parts that are gossip-worthy."

Sherlock smirks as he looks back into the microscope. John smiles as well, but then sighs wearily.

**John**- "But, family is family. And when family rings you as their last resort for a babysitter

you have little-to-no choice in the matter."

**Sherlock**-"There's always the choice of not taking her."

Sherlock continues to stare through his microscope, but he wasn't really paying attention to the slide of brain tissue that lied beneath it.

**John** – "That wouldn't be fair to Emma though, and besides now it gives me time to bond with my only niece, without having to resist the urge to constantly sock her father."

Sherlock looks up from his microscope at John as he tickles Emma's stomach. She coos happily and the smile that John gives her is one that Sherlock has rarely seen on John before. A small quiver of guilt and a little bit of jealousy passes through his mind, but he quickly pushes it away before it has the chance to grow.

**Sherlock** –"By the way, I thought your sister was a lesbian? At least when we first met that was my understanding."

**John** – "Well, after she ended things with Clara she decided to, and I quote, 'Give men another go'. So I suppose she's batting for both teams now."

John air quotes with one hand, as Emma looks up at him with a grumpy expression at the loss of tickling.

**Sherlock**-"Well, as long as this….inconvenience doesn't interrupt my experiments you can play house as much as-"

Suddenly the sound of a timer goes off

**John** – "Oh, that'll be her formula. Could you hold her for a sec?"

John unceremoniously places Emma in Sherlock's arms, holding her awkwardly and with a look of horror and confusion on his face.

**Sherlock** –"But I don't-"

**John** –"It'll only be a minute, I just have to get her bottle ready. Just… think of this as practice."

A look of panic on his face, Sherlock watches as John whizzes by him and over towards the stove. The barely supressed smirk on John's face had not gone unnoticed.

**Sherlock** -"Practice for what?"

Sherlock looks down at Emma who stares wide-eyed up at him, but then makes a disgruntled face.

**Sherlock** – "What're you… oh…."

John with his back turned the entire time-tested the formula on his wrist to make sure it was not too hot. And if he took just a little bit longer than usual to do so while he reveled in the sound of Sherlock being completely out of his element, then how could anyone blame him?

**John** – "Practice for handling children."

He answered, turning to see Sherlock holding the baby out at arms-length onto the back of her overalls, a look of disgust on his face. John huffs and places the formula down gently taking the baby out of Sherlock's grasp.

**John** –"You could certainly use it."

**Sherlock** – "I have no need for such useless information. My interactions with children are little-to-none especially in cases of murder, save for the occasional criminal master mind who feels free to use them as pawns in his game."

As Sherlock continued to rant, John in the meantime went and retrieved her diaper bag; returning back to the table where he began to make space for Emma to lay down.

**Sherlock** – "Furthermore, if I ever required the need to learn how to handle children, it would certainly be from an older age group, preferably one that can talk. Which brings me to—what are you doing?"

Sherlock in his mid-rant turned to see John laying Emma on a blanket on Sherlock's table, taking her overalls off and thus her diaper.

**John** – "I'm changing her diaper Sherlock."

**Sherlock** – "Yes but on my lab table?! Surely there must be a better place?"

**John** – "Not really, the living room table is covered with papers and books, as is the coffee table, you've turned my old room into your 'special thinking-mind-palace-room' and I'm not about to change her on our bed where we… you know."

**Sherlock**- "Yes! Exactly my point! Because this flat is not suited for the crying-smelly-squirming-little parasites that humans seem so inclined to keep bringing into this world!"

John glares at Sherlock as he finishes her diaper

**John** – "She's a harmless baby Sherlock! Not some parasite. You were once one of these too I might add."

**Sherlock** – "regretfully…."

A sad expression passes over John's face at Sherlock's comment. He lifts Emma from the table taking careful need to clear the table of any debris from before. Sherlock sits in the kitchen chair drumming his fingers irritably on the table, his gaze averted from John's. After a brief moment, John heaves a tired sigh.

**John** – "Fine, I'll get a folding table from Mrs. Hudson and use that instead. Is that better?"

John sits down at the other chair in front of Sherlock pulling the chair forward, their knees slightly bumping as he gently shifts Emma to one arm as he continues to feed her the bottle. The tense mood beginning to wane a bit as Sherlock stops drumming his fingers and looks from John down to Emma.

**Sherlock** –"Just one week?"

**John** – "Just one week."

With the bottle finished, John places it on the table and looks back at Sherlock who continues to stare down at Emma with a furrowed brow, as her eyes start to droop.

**Sherlock** – "She's going to eat all the time."

**John** – "I know."

John leans forward to kiss one cheek.

**Sherlock** – "And produce foul-smelling odors."

**John** – "It'll pass."

He kisses the other.

**Sherlock** –"Constantly needy, and crying throughout the night."

**John** –"We'll adjust and take turns."

A hand caresses Sherlock's cheek as John kisses the bridge of his nose.

**Sherlock** –"Who says we? It's your niece."

John gives him a sly grin

**John** – "You were complaining how bored you were earlier. Just think of this as a challenge. How fast can you master the art of child-rearing."

Sherlock looks unconvinced

**Sherlock** – "Although I love a challenge as much as the next man, I think I'll pass on one where there is no beneficial outcome in the end."

**John** – "Well, let's make it interesting then. If you can become a proficient babysitter by the end of the week, even better than me, then I'll-"

John Leans in and whispers into Sherlock's ear

**Sherlock** –"Wait why're you whispering?"

**John**-"So the baby doesn't hear."

**Sherlock** – "She's a baby John, she can't under-"

John places a finger on Sherlock's mouth.

**John** – "Just go with it."

John goes back and whispers into Sherlock's ear, his face goes from sullen to excitement as John pulls back.

**Sherlock** –"Really? With those-"

John leans in and kisses him

**John** –"Let's just say yes for now and leave the details for later."

Sherlock leans back, crossing his arms still looking unconvinced.

**Sherlock**-"And what if you win?"

**John**-"You and I will go on a Holiday, of my choosing, for 2 weeks. You never want to go anywhere and I'm tired of being stuck in this flat all the time."

Sherlock stands and walks into the living room sitting down in his armchair in silence; his finger steeple under his chin in deep meditation. John follows him in still carrying Emma who begins to cry as John lifts her up and starts to gently pat her on the back. As John sits in his own armchair across from him, Sherlock looks up suddenly, his eyes ablaze with excitement.

**Sherlock** -"Alright John…. You have a deal. The game is on!"

Sherlock leaps up in a flourish and grabs his coat and scarf, heading for the door.

**John **-"Where are you going?"

**Sherlock **-"To gather data John! If I'm to win this bet (and I fully intend to), one must gather the necessary data needed to attack their target with full-on precision."

John looks at him incredulously, shaking his head as he stands walking towards Sherlock. Emma beginning to grow more agitated in his arms as he continues to pat at her back.

**John** -"This isn't some battle Sherlock, it's babysitting."

Sherlock puts on his scarf and flips up his collar dramatically giving John a cheeky wink.

**Sherlock **-"Everything my dear John… is a battle!"

With that Sherlock kisses John on the head and rushes out of the flat, leaving John standing alone-dumbfounded still patting Emma's back.

**John** – "What did I just get you into Emma?"

Emma gives a loud burp in response.


	4. Chapter 3: Slight Doubts

**Chapter 3: Slight Doubts**

In a quaint park in the middle of London, the sounds of children playing reverberate within the brightly colored playground. However, lying in the bushes near the playground, the glint of binoculars can be seen. Hidden in the shadows, Sherlock's gaze flits from parent to parent. He cautiously studies their behavior mentally taking notes as if he were a hunter stalking the most dangerous of prey. Slowly, a shadow looms over him, the mysterious figure waits for a moment before crossing his arms and loudly clearing his throat.

**Shadow** –"You know there's only so many laws that you can break in one day."

**Sherlock** – "Nice to see you too Lestrade."

Sherlock responds nonchalantly as Lestrade kneels beside him.

**Lestrade** –"You've been quite busy today haven't you? First the nursery at Saint Benedict Children's Hospital…"

Lestrade takes away Sherlock's binoculars who glares back up at him. Lestrade just gives a wry grin as he begins to count off Sherlock's exploits on his hand.

**Lestrade** –"…Then impersonating a teacher at the Daisy Hill Preschool, all those bookstores and libraries where you ransacked through all the books on expecting parents and child-rearing, and don't even get me started on the women's clinic downtown."

Sherlock stands up during Lestrades' rant, dusting himself off.

**Lestrade** – "When I got the report I thought we had a serial pervert on the loose, but when I read the description: 'tall-lanky-pale man with dark brown hair, wearing a black coat and blue scarf mumbling the words 'must get data'', I figured I should take on the dispatch personally."

**Sherlock** –"Lanky? I'm not lanky at all."

Sherlock pouts as he pats his stomach, but is interrupted when Lestrade points an angry finger in his face.

**Lestrade** -"And you're damn lucky it was me too! Otherwise you would be riding first class in the back of a patrol car right about now."

Sherlock stares intently at Lestrade studying his current demeanor.

**Sherlock** – "_Eyes-bloodshot and tired, hasn't shaved or slept properly in days._

_ Shoulders hunched and tense, slight crick in his neck. Most likely sleeping on something_

_ besides a bed, the multi-colored polyester fibers littered across his coat suggest a couch. _

_Clothes worn, disheveled and slightly stained. The blinding smell of cologne suggests the lack of a decent bath._"

**Sherlock** – "I'm just collecting data Lestrade, no need for the theatrics."

Lestrade visibly calms down, but he still crosses his arms cocking an eyebrow at Sherlock.

**Lestrade** –"For a case? "

**Sherlock** -"No, a bet."

Looking at Sherlock incredulously, Lestrade follows after Sherlock as he walks through the park eventually coming to a bridge where Sherlock leans against the rail solemnly looking down at the small stream. Lestrade himself leans back against the rail running a tired hand through his already disheveled hair.

**Lestrade**-"Since when are you a betting man? I would think you would be above games of chance."

**Sherlock** –"It's more of a game of skill. And for once John has more of an aptitude for this particular… talent than I do."

**Lestrade**-"What sort of bet involves studying kids?"

As he continues to stare into the babbling stream below, Sherlock heaves a frustrated sigh knowing how ridiculous the following sentence is going to sound, but there was no other way to phrase it without causing even more suspicion.

**Sherlock**-"John and I are raising a baby."

Lestrade stares at him in complete disbelief, his eyes almost bulging out of his skull.

**Lestrade**-"Uh…come again?"

Sherlock rolls his eyes in annoyance, (a slight blush on his cheeks) and pushes away from the railing, straightening his scarf.

**Sherlock**- "It's just as I stated Greg. Why must I always repeat myself?"

**Lestrade**- "So when did John suddenly gain the miracle of child-birth in less than a week? Unless you're the mother and you've been hiding the baby under that trench coat or yours for the past nine months"

Sherlock stops fidgeting with his scarf and looks at Lestrade with an unreadable expression. Lestrade looks back with a joking grin and wink causing a grin to form on Sherlock's face as well.

**Sherlock**- "It's not our child Lestrade, it's his niece. His git of a sister has left the little worm with us for a week, and I have a bet with John that I could be a better parent than him by the end of the week."

Lestrade then bursts out laughing.

**Lestrade**- "But you don't know anything about kids Sherlock. Hell, just the very notion of you being a parent to….anything is absurd!"

A brief look of hurt passes over Sherlock's face, but he recovers quickly.

**Sherlock**-"Hence why I was gathering data Lestrade. Until _you_ decided to interrupt me."

**Lestrade**-"Well you technically were disturbing the peace Sherlock, it's my job after all. Besides, you can observe as many children as you want or read all the parenting books in the world and it wouldn't prepare you."

As Lestrade calms down from his laughter, he notices that impassive-neutral look once again clouding Sherlock's face. His eyes looking off into the distance, as he retreats back into the comforts of his mind.

**Sherlock**-"So what will exactly?"

Just as quickly though, Sherlock snaps out of his reverie and looks up at Lestrade.

**Lestrade**- "Well, not to sound sappy, but your heart Sherlock. You can't raise a child properly if there's no bond or any emotional connection."

**Sherlock**-"You make it sound like it's impossible for me then."

**Lestrade**-"Well….no. But you have to admit you're not exactly good at connecting with people."

Sherlock stays silent for a moment, absorbing Lestrades words.

**Sherlock**-"No, I suppose I'm not."

Then slowly, he turns and begins to walk away.

**Lestrade**- "Sherlock! I….maybe I'm not the best person to be giving advice on this…subject; what with never having kids myself."

Sherlock stops and half turns to him.

**Lestrade**-"You should ask someone else for advice. Maybe get a… woman's perspective."

Sherlock visibly brightens at the idea and turns to leave again.

**Sherlock**-"Maybe you're right. Thank you Greg."

Lestrade sighs relieved as he watches Sherlock walk away.

**Lestrade**-"Anytime Sherlock."

Continuing to walk, Sherlock calls back catching Lestrade off guard.

**Sherlock**-" By the way, you should really go home to sleep, those couch marks on your face and the musk of your cheap cologne trying to hide your lack of bathing are not doing you any justice."

**Lestrade**-"Always a people person Sherlock!"

Lestrade smells himself and rubs his face as Sherlock gives a half wave, a broad grin spreading across his face.


	5. Chapter 4: Depths of a Woman

**Chapter 4: Depths of a Woman**

**Molly** – "Um… I'm sorry?"

Molly stood frozen, hovered over a corpse. Her gloved hands covered in blood as she holds the stomach of a woman in her hand. Across from her is Sherlock standing expectantly with his hands behind his back, a look of slight annoyance on his face.

**Sherlock** – "What do you know about raising children Molly?"

Molly blushes as she fumbles having almost dropped her stomach.

**Molly** – "W-Why are you asking me?"

**Sherlock** – "I'm collecting data, and Lestrade told me to get a 'woman's perspective'. And since you're one of the few women that I know, I came to you."

**Molly** – "Oh! Is this for a case or something?"

Sherlock snaps on a pair of gloves and goes about helping Molly, extracting organs out of the woman.

**Sherlock** – "No, John and I are raising a baby."

This time Molly does actually drop her stomach onto the floor in a panic, causing her to duck and grab it along with hitting her head against the gurney.

**Molly** –"You're raising a baby?!"

**Sherlock** – "More along the lines of babysitting to be exact."

Molly looks quizzically at him

**Sherlock** – "It's his niece."

**Molly**- "Oh…OH! Thank goodness!"

Molly places a bloody hand upon her chest in relief, which she instantly regrets as she moves to the sink trying to wash the blood off.

**Sherlock** – "Is there something wrong?"

**Molly** – "No! No of course not. It's just…"

Sherlock quirks an eyebrow and looks up at her. Molly's back turned to him.

**Sherlock** – "Yes?"

She turns around having made a decent effort at cleaning herself up.

**Molly** –"I'm just surprised that you would show any interest in children. You always seem so… beyond that."

**Sherlock** – "It wasn't my idea I assure you. However, John and I have made a small wager in my capability at being able to take care of his niece for a week."

**Molly** – "I figured you would only do this for the challenge."

Molly moves back to resume taking out the various organs. Sherlock pauses and stares down at her with a frown on his face.

**Sherlock** –"Am I really that predictable?"

She looks up at him giving a small smirk.

**Molly** – "You're not predictable, (not by a long shot) but you're just…Sherlock! I could just never see you raising children, or doing anything as…'illogical' like that."

As Sherlock continued assisting Molly with her work, he remains silent as he ponders over her statement. It's true that he never gave much thought to children, in fact he absolutely loathed them. The idea of even raising a child himself never once entered into his mind as a possible experience he would ever have in his life. He paused for a moment, (his hands idly juggling a spleen back and forth) as he came to the realization that the only person that thought Sherlock could be remotely capable of raising a child, was John. And if John believed he could do it…

**Sherlock** – "Is the idea of me doing anything illogical really that absurd?"

He looks up at Molly who stares back blushing mildly.

**Molly** – "I-I don't know… But then again, to answer your earlier question; I don't know much about raising children myself. I only have an older brother, and we never really got along that well."

Sherlock goes back to assisting Molly, amused at how flustered she could still get despite everything they've been through. However, a stern look comes across his face as his thoughts turn to his own brother.

**Sherlock** – "The feeling is mutual."

Molly smiles and finishes taking the organs out that she needed, walking them over to another table as she begins to examine them more closely.

**Molly** – "When we were little though, my Mum used to make him play with me in order to get us to, 'bond'. I remember one day, we went to the country on holiday to visit my gran's house, and we got lost exploring the woods. It got to the point where it got so dark, that I kept tripping on the roots and rocks constantly. My brother-Ethan-took my hand then saying, 'If you fall and hurt yourself, mum will beat me to next week.'"

**Sherlock** –"Seems a bit excessive."

**Molly** – "Oh, he was mostly joking. Mum was a very sweet soul, but let's just say we were wary to cross her."

Sherlock stares at her with a bored look. Molly clears her throat slightly embarrassed and moves over to the cadaver as she goes about sewing it closed.

**Molly** – "So, it was around then that it started to rain, and we were lucky enough to find ourselves a small cave to huddle up in. I was….so scared, and cold. I was freezing to bits with nothing but a thin jumper on. Like I said, we never got along that well, we were very different from each other and hardly agreed on much. So it took me by surprise then when he wrapped his arm around me, and started singing."

Sherlock raised an amused eyebrow.

**Sherlock** – "Singing?"

Molly nods, noticing how she actually has Sherlock's attention now.

**Molly** – "It was an old song, one that Mum used to sing to us. I had never heard my brother sing before, I don't think he's ever sung much himself, but…."

Sherlock studies Molly intently, seeing the faraway look in her eyes as she pauses for a moment lost in her memories.

**Molly** –"It was in that moment that I really felt that he was my brother. That even despite all of our differences and arguments, we were still family, and we loved each other."

She looks up, smiling fondly at Sherlock.

**Molly **–"That's how families are. Logically, Ethan and I would just part ways and never speak to each other, because we would have nothing to gain from our relationship, but with family there's such a….. deeper bond there, that it almost defies all logic."

Sherlock stares at her, his brows knitted with a look of consternation on his face. Molly blushes at his intense stare and hastily resumes her sewing.

**Molly** – "A-Any way. What I'm trying to say is that, my brother singing to me was exactly what I needed at the time. Even though we're still not as close as some siblings are, there will always be that bond between the two of us because we're family. It just comes naturally, from the heart; and… I would think the same concept applies to raising a child."

Molly finishes up, sewing the woman's stomach back up and walks over to the sink, taking off her gloves and washing her hands.

**Molly** – "I-I'm sorry if that wasn't really helpful. I just ended up babbling really."

**Sherlock** – "You did, but there were some parts that I bothered to listen to that did give me a bit of insight on my predicament."

Sherlock throws his gloves away and turns to leave the lab, with a somber look on his face.

**Molly** – "Don't you have something like that with your brother?"

He stops at the door and looks back at Molly as he puts on his coat.

**Sherlock** – "What?"

**Molly** – "A bond? I mean, I know you don't get along, but…"

Sherlock finishes putting on his coat and looks like he's turning to leave.

**Sherlock** – "Molly, where's the nearest bakery?"

**Molly** – "Um… about two blocks south, on Saxton I think. Why?"

**Sherlock** – "I think it's about time I paid my older brother a visit."

With that, Sherlock walks out of the morgue leaving a bewildered-but pleased Molly behind. She smiles softly to herself, and with a light sigh then reaches into the pocket of her lab coat pulling out her cell phone dialing a number slowly and deliberately, a look of determination on her face.

**Molly** –"Ethan? Hi, it's Molly…"


End file.
